


Badass Blues

by AnonEhouse



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack Treated Seriously, Humor, M/M, Nick Fury Feels, POV Nick Fury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 11:13:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3726748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/AnonEhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick Fury is a Badass. But he can't help missing the interaction he used to have with the Avengers. They're a team, and he's... you know, not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Badass Blues

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this AvengerKink [ prompt.](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/15292.html?thread=32866492#t32866492)

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

No one had ever said Nick Fury was a sentimental man. Or needy. Badass, Mofo, and BAMF were more the way people would describe him. And that was the way Nick wanted it. He'd been badass all his life! Even when he was a tiny, little, wet behind the ears kid with a fuzzy afro (Momma wanted it, and it did NOT pay to go against Momma Fury even though Nick had wanted a crewcut) sitting under the kitchen table and listening to his dad's wartime cronies playing poker for pennies and telling stories about 'the big one'. He was BORN to be badass. And he was damn good at it. 

He wore a long, black leather coat even when the weather was totally wrong for it, and it made him sweat like a pig. He refused scar reduction surgery on his face after the shrapnel incident, because, hey, he couldn't get a dueling scar, but this was even better, because it was genuinely the result of actual combat. Not like the Stark boy, whose messed up chest was the result of a murder attempt. He had been there to get drunk and show off, not fight. Nick had to admit the boy showed spunk, afterward, and he didn't whine when he was dying, Nick gave him props for that. So, ok, Natasha said he wasn't fit to be a team member. Hell, neither was Nick.

And really, none of the Avengers was fit to be a team member. Rogers thought he was, but he was a born pack leader, which didn't work very well when you put a bunch of lone wolves together and told them to fake it. All chiefs and no Indians. Yeah, ok, not PC. Fury was working on it. All Captains and no Privates? That's no better, that sounded dirty. 

And everyone knew Nick had no human needs. Everyone except Nick.

He didn't sigh as he looked at Coulson's latest video report. Coulson was almost _smiling_ which, Jesus wept, that was so wrong. Cheese never smiled. He was almost as badass as Nick. "Team cohesiveness is improving, Boss," Coulson said. "Sending them to the children's hospital broke the ice." Coulson really did smile, then. "Thanks for the cards. Steve signed them and I asked him to give them to the kids." Coulson chuckled. He _actually_ chuckled. "Tony found out, and he bought me another set. He's trying to talk Steve into painting a set of Avengers trading cards."

Damnit, those cards were Nick's apology to Coulson for well... everything. And why was Cheese calling Stark 'Tony'? Was Cheese going soft? Gaah, Nick's mind kept coming up with inappropriately dirty phrasing. Agents of SHIELD did not have sex. Did not think about sex. Well, except in the line of duty. And, you know, occasionally give a teammate a hand. Coulson had damn fine hands.

Shit. Nick needed to get laid. It wasn't easy being a big, bad Mofo on the outside, and... well... sometimes, just sometimes... Nick could use a little tenderness from a tough guy. Someone to wrap a strong, masculine arm around him, and run a hand over Nick's head and ... you know, just fucking cuddle. He looked back at the video. Coulson was chattering on about the time they went to a gay bar by accident- accident Nick's other eye, he smelled a Stark prank- or possibly one of Barton's- and they all had a wonderful time. Damnit, Nick hadn't been to a gay bar in years. He was too recognizable. But the Avengers didn't have to hide, not anything.

Stark went past in the background. He had a lampshade on his head, and Rogers was red-faced with laughter. What the hell? Didn't they despise each other? Nick had expected them to work together, and then split the fuck up, not hang out in Stark's A-Tower and... and... fraternize! Heroes were supposed to be serious! 

Nick shut off the video to cut off the sight of Romanov giving Banner's hair an affectionate... no, no, she had to be giving him a noogie. Romanov was purged as clean as Nick of softness. She was practically the role model for tough and emotionless. Nick closed his eye, and then opened it. He wasn't a coward. He turned the video back on. Banner smiled. And Romanov kissed him. A peck on the cheek! Not even a seductive, sexy kiss that Nick could decide was just manipulating Banner. She LIKED Banner. This... this was not... not acceptable. Barton was watching and his expression was soft, too.

Coulson kept burbling about team-bonding games and outings. Thor entered the room. Thank God for Thor. Thor had been a warrior for millennia, he wouldn't give in to this, this, mush. Thor strode into the room, cape flying, muscles flexing. Every inch an unbending hero. Stark noticed him and took off the lampshade. He pointed to a barrel incongruously set in the middle of Stark's ultra modern penthouse. And Thor laughed. He went to the barrel and with Rogers and Stark steadying him, did a keg stand, letting beer flow over his beard and splash on the floor, while everyone, including Coulson, laughed.

This... this could not go on. They needed a firm hand.

Fury rounded up some top-secret files that he'd been saving for a rainy day, or you know, a day when he needed to kick the Avengers' asses in gear and insults and reverse psychology weren't working any longer and he was reduced to _being nice_. Stark thought he'd got everything, but Fury's Darknet just wasn't accessible by anyone else, certainly not from the Helicarrier. For one thing you needed a really buggered up retina print, _and_ Nick's Secret Superhero name that he'd invented when he was four years old, playing with G.I.Joe. Even at four, he knew to keep a damn secret. "Cobra Bubbles NO BATH" was SHIELD's deepest secret.

JARVIS had given up trying to intercept Nick, but the A.I. did make him wait for the private elevator. When it arrived, Coulson was in it. "Hi Boss," Coulson said. 

Nick grunted at him and stepped into the elevator, holding the print-outs, actual paper print-outs, close to his chest. He turned to face the front of the elevator. "Been getting cozy here, haven't you, Phil?" Out of the corner of his eye (Nick automatically put Cheese on his good side), he caught Coulson's hysterically panicked reaction- he _absolutely_ widened his eyes and took a short breath.

"No one's compromised here, Chief."

"Don't call me Chief. I hate when you call me Chief." The Cone of Silence jokes had been fun at first, but then some moron in the tech division actually made one and installed it in Fury's office. Nick suspected Stark of being behind that prank. 

The elevator wasn't moving very fast. JARVIS was in cahoots with Coulson. No compromise here, sure.

"You didn't have to come all the way here, Boss. Tony's got absolutely secure communications setups for data and..." Coulson stopped talking for a moment as Nick turned his head just enough to look at him. "Something about Tony? Boss, really, I'll handle it, just tell me what the problem is. You know how your blood pressure goes up every time you deal with him."

Nick grunted again, noncommittally, and turned back the necessary inches to pretend to be staring at the floor indicator light.

"One of the others? All of them? Boss, you really don't want to see this. There's... well, fraternization. Severe and flagrant fraternization! All the time!" Coulson sounded desperate. 

"No law against that," Nick finally said.

"Oh, good." Coulson had a tiny bead of sweat on his upper lip. "But... they violate most of SHIELD's in house regulations. All the time. And, and... the paperwork. Boss, you have no idea how much paperwork they generate. Sexual harassment lawsuits, paternity suits, starting riots in the YMCA. And that's only _Natasha_."

Nick grunted again. "Doesn't matter what I want to see, Cheese." Nick unbent enough to offer the nickname. "It's what I need to see."

Coulson sighed again, and the elevator finally reached the Avengers' common level. The doors opened, and Nick stepped out, with Coulson half a step behind. "You don't need to coddle me, Cheese," Nick said firmly. "I'm sure you have things to do, elsewhere." He pointed at the elevator.

"Yes, Boss." Coulson got back in and the elevator took him away. Probably to his own floor. His own goddamn floor.

Nick stalked forward, thinking Big Cat, Panther, thoughts, which were derailed the moment he got past the back of the couch and saw Steve Rogers lying on his back, with Tony Stark on top of him. They were both fully dressed, thank Heaven. They looked at him. Nick cleared his throat. "Um. I happened to be looking through some files. Found some information you might be interested in." He put several of the folders down on the coffee table next to the couch. It had a pot of coffee and an entire hand of bananas on it. Nick wasn't going to speculate why.

"Thanks?" Rogers said. His hands were still planted on Stark's ass, and while Nick couldn't see Stark's hands, he could make a pretty good guess where they were. 

"Yeah. It's... historical, really. Case files from the early days of SHIELD. Cases where Peggy Carter, Howard Stark, and Edwin Jarvis were involved." Nick wanted to shove his hands in his pockets, but that would look really not-Panther. He had a reputation to maintain.

"Huh." Stark reached out and grabbed a folder. "Jarvis was a spy?" Rogers had already opened one of the other folders, and was smiling as he read.

"Not exactly," Nick said. "Anyway, I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I'd drop them off." Nick fidgeted for a moment, and then nodded. "Right, well, I'll find the others, and distribute the rest of this." He hesitated a moment longer. "You're good, right?"

Stark and Rogers exchanged puzzled glances. "Yes?" Stark said.

"Fine." Nick was not going to ask if they were being safe with sex. He was not going to offer to go get them condoms and lube. Stark had enough experience for the two of them, even if Steve didn't. "Right. JARVIS, where are the other Avengers?"

"Thor is on the kitchen at this level. Agents Barton, Romanov and Dr. Banner are in the designated 'Hulk room' on Dr. Banner's level."

Nick must have let an expression slip. Stark waved at him. "It's fine. Bruce has it totally under control." Rogers nodded. "Yes, sir, there's no cause for alarm. Hulk is getting along with everyone just fine."

"He didn't even hit Thor last time out," Stark commented.

Nick wasn't totally reassured. He went to the kitchen first. If there was a threesome with Hulk, he wanted to put off seeing that as long as possible. Thor was standing in front of a row of toasters, with opened Pop-Tart packages all around. A pair of Pop-Tarts popped up and Thor grabbed them bare-handed, putting them on a plate. Nick was horrified. "You do know those things are full of chemicals? And the wild strawberry... you do not want to know what that actually is."

Thor smiled sunnily at Nick. "Indeed, the All-Speak translates not only spoken words, but the hidden meaning behind printed words. Truly, I do not consider them a food item, however, they make excellent Bilgesnipe bait."

"Bilgesnipe."

"Large, destructive, smelly, horned beasts. A pest on Asgard, responsible for much crop destruction, and the despair of laundresses who air clean linens." Thor piled more Pop-Tarts on a platter. "They cannot resist these confections, although the inevitable stomach pain makes them easy prey." Thor's smile widened. "Truly, Pop-Tarts are a gift from the gods."

"Yes. Well." Nick thought the All-Speak text translation might come in handy. It sure would be nice to know what his mother meant when she wrote, 'It was nice to hear from you at last, Nicholas'. Only maybe he really didn't want to know. "You be sure to eat a balanced diet, you hear? Cholesterol can creep up on you. More fruits and vegetables. Not so much meat and beer."

Thor looked puzzled, but he nodded. "I shall take your sage words of advice. Tony has bought a great many of those yellow fruit called bananas! I shall eat more of them!" And Thor reached up above the refrigerator to take down a bunch of bananas. A bunch, as in several hundred bananas. He snapped off a banana and waved it cheerfully at Nick. "Fruit!"

"Fruit," Nick echoed. "Yes. Well, I just wanted to leave this with you." He placed a folder on the small area of counter not occupied by bananas, toasters, or Pop-Tarts.

"What is this?" Thor said, after swallowing a mouthful of banana.

"Historical records of people who claim descent from... well, your people. The strongest claims occurred about two hundred years ago."

Thor looked thoughtful. "Loki did take a holiday from the court, around that time." He beamed. "My thanks! I shall make enquiries!"

Nick wasn't too thrilled at the idea of Loki-spawn, but Thor obviously thought it was wonderful. Nick nodded, and left Thor poring over the folder and making notes on a StarkPad.

The elevator took Nick down to Dr. Banner's level, silently, which was a little unnerving. JARVIS was always talkative with Stark and the Avengers. Nick often heard it making sniping remarks in the background. Even JARVIS didn't think Nick was a person with feelings. Maybe he shouldn't have overridden JARVIS's systems so often.

Nick approached the 'Hulk Room' warily. There was a light above the door, glowing blue, which probably meant something to the occupants of the Tower. Nick took a guess that blue meant 'safe' or at least not 'oh, God, run for your life'. He tried the huge door, and it opened smoothly. And then he stopped and stared. The interior of the room was taken up by the largest trampoline he'd ever seen. Hulk was kneeling in the middle, while Barton and Romanov bounced and jumped, using him as a target. Hulk was laughing. A deep, rich rumble.

Barton glanced over at Nick. "Hello, sir! Do you have a mission for us?" Unnervingly, Romanov kept bouncing and flipping, but her gaze never left Nick's face.

"No, just some old files from personnel records turned up. Thought I might as well clear them out." Nick wasn't entirely sure how Dr. Banner would take the news that Betty Ross had broken off her engagement and was searching for him, but that was nothing to how Romanov might react when she read the cleared up, non-redacted, files on her parents. He was fairly sure Barton wouldn't mind hearing about the current lives of the circus folk he'd grown up with. Fairly sure. The ones who'd treated him like shit were all dead. "Anyway, I'll just leave them here." Nick was beginning to feel really pathetic, like a puppy begging for attention. He laid the folders down on the floor and made a dignified, if hasty, retreat, ignoring Barton's, "What the hell?"

He got back to the elevator and closed his eye. He was not in a fit state to be seen in public. After a few minutes, JARVIS said, "Director Fury? Where do you wish to go?"

Nick blinked hard. "Ah. Got something in my eye. Direct me to the nearest unoccupied restroom."

"Certainly, Director."

The elevator began moving. It stopped fairly quickly, and JARVIS said, "Proceed straight ahead, and then take the corridor to your left."

Nick nodded, and hurried to reach the sanctuary of the bathroom. It was overdone, with a large, circular couch in red leather in the center of the room, a row of mirrors and sinks against one wall, and a door leading off to either side, which Nick presumed led to toilets and showers, or hell, saunas, who knew. This was probably a team restroom. And Nick wasn't part of the team. He took off his eye patch and splashed his face with cool water before drying off with a butter-soft towel and dropping it in a hamper. He put the eyepatch back on and sat down on the couch. He was Nick Fury. He was the scariest MOFO around. He didn't need to go around feeling sorry for himself because no one wanted to play with him! He was a grown-ass man!

Nick closed his eye. Look, no problem. He'd confused the hell out of Coulson and the Avengers. They'd think it was all part of some sneaky spy plan and have even more respect for him. Everything was fine.

Then he heard the bathroom door open. Nick kept his eye firmly shut. He recognized the outrageously expensive cologne. "Stark," he said, refusing to explain his presence.

The cushion next to him sank down. A warm body settled next to his. "JARVIS was worried about you."

Nick smiled wryly. "No need. Got something in my eye. That's all."

"Uh huh. Listen, I know you're probably carrying an armory on you, so please don't take this the wrong way. I don't enjoy being shot."

"Take what the wrong way?" Reluctantly Nick opened his eye.

Stark. Tony. Tony reached out and ran his hand over Nick's head. "I always wanted to do that."

Nick couldn't help it. He leaned towards Tony. "Why?"

"It's a thing." Tony stroked Nick's head again.

Nick didn't moan, but he didn't move away. "What, a fetish? You've got a fetish for bald black men?"

Tony laughed, but didn't stop petting. "Next you'll say I like petting shiny things."

"Yeah, I've seen you with your robots."

Tony kept stroking, and Nick knew his voice was soft and deep. He couldn't stop it. Didn't want to.

"You're strong, Nick. I like strong, beautiful things. Especially when they're just a little bit broken. We're all broken here."

Nick didn't nod, but he felt like it. "This is just... I'm having a bad day. That's all. It doesn't mean anything."

"Uh huh." Tony put his arms around Nick. 

Jesus. Tony was short. He was a short little sarcastic fucker, this should not be comforting. But his arms were all warm muscle. So strong. Nick put his arms around Tony in return. "Bad day, that's all."

"Yeah. We all have them." And then Nick felt lips on his forehead. "Listen, I didn't think you'd want it, so I haven't got a floor for you... yet! Yet! But Phil gave me a spare key to his floor. He said he just needed landlord's permission to sublet." He pressed a key into Nick's hand. "Go for it."

Nick didn't cry. Of course not. Not one fucking crystal tear. "Must be allergic to your damn cologne," Nick said, wiping at his eye.

"Sure," Tony said. He smiled. "I'll change it."

"No." Nick shook his head. "I'll get used to it." And he let Tony continue to hold him. Fuck being a Badass. Badasses were only human, too.


End file.
